Pawns
by Marianne H. Stillie
Summary: An offworld diplomatic mission becomes a question of life or death for Elizabeth Weir and Ronon Dex.


Title: Pawns

Author: Marianne H. Stillie

Categories: Adventure/Drama, Romance/Angst

Rating: T

Pairing: Ronon & Elizabeth

Season: Season 3

Summary: An off-world diplomatic mission becomes a question of life or death for Elizabeth Weir and Ronon Dex.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and places for Stargate Atlantis are the property of MGM Worldwide Television Distribution, Sony Pictures Television and Acme Shark Cooper/Wright Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment, not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks are intended. Previously unrecognized characters, places and this story are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Archive: Please do not archive anywhere without the author's permission.

Copyright (c) 2006 Marianne H. Stillie

Author's Note: This story is placed just after Season 3's "Misbegotten" but before "Sateda". It continues the Ronon/Elizabeth relationship established in my Season 2'Lines Series' but is a standalone, separate from the canon sequence of stories.

* * *

Pawns

As he stepped out of the transporter with Elizabeth Weir, John Sheppard's voice rang across the jumper bay, "Stop whining, Rodney!"

Moving away from Major Lorne and the four scientists around the waiting jumper, McKay shouted back, "I'll whine as much as I want, Sheppard! We've been waiting almost three weeks to get this project set up on M8B-968 and I refuse to risk crashing on some godforsaken planet because of a rookie pilot's mistake!"

Sheppard's fuse was shorter than usual and he chose the argumentative route this time. "You've been delayed because there's been an _epidemic_ going through the city, in case you've _forgotten_! I'm still down recuperating personnel, so there aren't many pilots to choose from! It's Ronon or pilot the damn jumper yourself!"

Glaring at Ronon who was leaning against the open jumper, McKay shouted back, "I'll do it myself rather than trust your student driver!"

Stepping between the two red-faced, angry men, Elizabeth said, "If Ronon doesn't mind accompanying me on a boring diplomatic mission, he can be my pilot, instead of Major Lorne."

With only the faintest hint of a smile, Ronon answered, "I don't mind at all, Dr. Weir."

"It'll be a good first solo run," John said in a much calmer voice to Elizabeth. "Besides, I'd feel better knowing you have a _real_ bodyguard." Looking at Major Lorne, he added, "No offense intended, major."

"None taken, sir."

Trying to get in the last word, Rodney said, "As usual, the scientists are expendable."

His voice dripping sincere sarcasm, John said, "I was thinking more in terms of chopped liver."

With one last glare at Sheppard, McKay followed Lorne and his team of scientists into the jumper.

As the first jumper descended to the gate room, they waited for the next one to move into place.

"I know this isn't a good time to be leaving you in charge, John. You're just back on your feet. I can ask the Delavan consul to reschedule."

"I'm fine, Elizabeth. Teyla's making sure I don't overdo. A couple of days of fresh air, sunshine and no sick people will do _you_ good." A quick glance at Ronon told him he didn't need to say anything to his teammate about taking care of her.

* * *

The second jumper touched down on the bay floor and the rear hatch opened. Ronon was inside and in the pilot's chair adjusting controls in preparation for their takeoff when Elizabeth came in and stood beside him. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dr. Weir," he said without looking at her.

With a light laugh, she said, "Just don't get too many speeding tickets your first time out."

Laughing softly, Ronon smiled, "I won't."

"Oh, and please lose the 'Dr. Weir' now that it's just the two of us."

He looked up at her. "Elizabeth," he said softly and saw the shiver of pleasure his deep caressing voice always created when he said her name.

Ronon wasn't surprised when she stood behind him and slid her arms over his shoulders, her hands clasping together just below his throat. He leaned his head back against her. As expected, she pulled him closer and rested her cheek on top of his head. They held the pose for several slow, pleasurable breaths then let the moment of intimacy end.

Elizabeth sat in the copilot's seat. "Whenever you're ready, captain."

With a deep laugh, Ronon activated the jumper and they descended into the gate room. Elizabeth entered the gate address. As soon as the chevrons were locked, he took the jumper through.

The light, trivial chitchat that filled the minutes between leaving Atlantis, exiting the gate floating just outside the Delva system and arriving at their destination, the fifth planet of that system, was secondary to the intense thoughtfulness that occupied that other level of Ronon's consciousness.

In the weeks since he, Sheppard and McKay had returned to Atlantis having survived the Wraith's latest attempt to invade Earth, Elizabeth had been even more openly affectionate toward him. She needed the tactile reassurance that he was really there and back with her. Yet, they had had very little time to be alone and as physically intimate as they had been before.

As if the Wraith hadn't been enough strain on her, that Earth bureaucrat Woolsey had twice threatened to end her tenure as leader of Atlantis. Elizabeth had come to an accommodation with him in the end, proving to everyone that she was the only leader the Atlantis expedition needed. It was also lucky for Woolsey. Ronon had set up a backup plan that would have fixed the man's shortsighted ass graphically.

They'd had one long, pleasurable night together before the epidemic started. A simple childhood disease that he and Teyla remembered from their worlds had brought the new Atlanteans to their knees. Sheppard had caught it from one of the Athosian children on the mainland. The fast-moving fever and rash had taken half of the city's population down in the first week. As that group began their recovery, the other half was infected. The second group was just passed the initial fever stage.

She had been in the first group. Ronon had stayed with her, not expecting anything as serious as what Sheppard had experienced. When her fever had soared dangerously and brought on a delirium, he was frightened for the first time in many years. He'd frantically called Teyla who had come immediately. After administering an Athosian medicine that had worked very well on Sheppard, she had him bathe Elizabeth in cool water. When the bath and medicine started to take effect, Ronon had held her closely in his arms as they lay on her bed. Finally, she'd fallen into a peaceful sleep.

He looked over at her. For him, feeling her so close earlier had been a reminder that he could have lost her only days ago.

Elizabeth fell silent as the planet's surface came into view. "Ronon, why are we losing altitude so fast?"

His voice grim, he answered, "I don't know." His hands moved swiftly across the console. Whatever was wrong with the puddlejumper couldn't be fixed in the too short minutes until they hit the ground. Though he couldn't stop the deadfall descent, the controls for navigation and braking were still working.

He scanned the immediate area and chose the level ground near a river. "Fasten your seatbelt. We're goin' in." He banked the jumper so it would land parallel to the riverbank. The hit would still rattle their teeth but the jumper wouldn't slam into the planet's surface and be ripped apart.

Gripping the controls, he watched the ground come up. After a relatively short slide, the jumper came to rest within walking distance of the river. Letting go of the controls, his painfully tensed muscles relaxed. Exhaling loudly, he leaned back.

"Nice work, flyboy," Elizabeth said calmly. She leaned over and patted his arm. "The ATA gene works great on you."

With an unusually nervous laugh, Ronon said, "That was from 'The John Sheppard Manual of Flying'. Are you okay?"

In answer, Elizabeth stood up and stretched. "Where are we?"

Ronon brought up the display. "A long way from the Delavan capital."

* * *

The Delavan government's elected leader, Consul Sarius, was annoyed when his young assistant Maaz rushed into his office. The one thing he didn't need anymore of today was bad news. He'd had enough to deal with from his senior military staff when they submitted their latest report on the increased strength of the rebel forces that were now entrenched in the town of Essene southwest of the capitol.

"I apologize, uncle, but I have grave news. The ship that was bringing Dr. Weir from Atlantis has crashed."

Sarius ground his teeth. This is what he got for giving this job to his sister's son. "Crashed? Where and how do you know this?"

The young man sputtered in answer, "Three hundred miles southwest of here, at the bend of the Coral River. Dr. Weir just contacted us. She and her pilot are safe but they need rescuing."

Sarius did some quick calculations and asked, "How far are they from Essene?"

"Only a few miles. We need to get a shuttle out there before the rebels become aware of them."

Standing, the consul started out the door to the hallway. "I'll contact Dr. Weir and let her know we'll be sending help as soon as possible."

Maaz followed him as he hurried down the hall to the communication center. "Shall I arrange for the shuttle while you are doing that?"

"No," he said firmly. He didn't bother explaining to his nephew that there wasn't going to be a rescue, at least not now.

In the communication center, he stopped beside the desk of his senior code analyst.

Turning to Maaz, he said, "Contact General Vodd and have him meet me in my office in twenty minutes." When the young man just stood there confused, he said gruffly, "Now, Maaz!"

When his nephew finally left the room, Sarius turned to the analyst, "Send a coded message to our contact in Essene and advise him of the two Atlanteans. Tell him further instructions will follow. When that is done, contact Dr. Weir." The consul couldn't help the calculating smirk his mustachioed lip curled into. Today might turn out to be a good day after all.

The code analyst began inputting the frequency to Essene.

* * *

Ronon scanned the star-filled night sky. "It's taking those people a long time to get here." Then he winced as Elizabeth tightened the bandage she was wrapping around his ankle. Pulling his leg back, he said, "That's fine."

Sitting back on her haunches, she searched his face in the flickering flames of the campfire. "Even after all this time, and with me, you still have to be the super warrior."

His silent stare was annoyed at first then a trusting smile changed the set of his mouth. "It hurts. Okay?"

"Okay." She finished wrapping the ace bandage then sat beside him, putting her arm through his and resting her head on his shoulder. "They'd _better not_ forget about us. Since we couldn't get through to Atlantis, the Delavan are the only ones who know where we are."

"McKay is going to love this."

"You're not responsible for mechanical failure. These ships are very old. Besides, McKay would never have been able to land so beautifully." She felt his body vibrate in a deep laugh.

"This isn't exactly the way I wanted us to be alone."

"Consider it an unplanned vacation. Now we can talk about all the things we keep avoiding when we're at home."

"Like what?"

"Like the incident on Belkan."

"You know about Kell and what I did?"

"I've known for a long time. Word gets around in the Pegasus Galaxy."

"Teyla said you wouldn't understand."

The feeling of exclusion from the warrior code he and her two closest friends shared was fleeting and she said, "Teyla is very wise but in this she was wrong. After all the questionable decisions I've made, your justifiable action is mild in comparison."

"To people like Kavanaugh and Woolsey, I'm dangerous and a liability, especially to you."

"You forgot Caldwell." Elizabeth heard the threatening growl Ronon always let escape when the colonel's name was mentioned. "Are they why you stayed away from me when I needed you so much?"

Hearing the pain in her voice, Ronon pulled her closer. "Yes, and I'm sorry. Everything's moved so fast since I got back."

"Atlantis is a small community and we all have secrets. Most of us respect each other's privacy. The personal relationship John and Teyla have is quietly accepted." In a soft voice she added, "And so is ours."

"It's the ones who don't, who are threats to you. If you hadn't gotten Woolsey to back down, you wouldn't be here now. I can't lose you, Elizabeth."

"The buck stops here," she laughed. When Ronon looked at her blankly, she took a different tack. "My personal life decisions and actions have nothing to do with how I do my job. If the powers that be back on Earth ever decide that my love for you makes me incapable of leading this expedition, then they can take the job and shove it."

Surprised, he asked, "Then what?"

"Then I'd finally be able to do what I want to do, make a real life with you, and have a baby or two before I'm too old."

Ronon smiled in a way she had never seen before. "I can't promise that I'll never lose my temper or that I won't get into another fight. What I do promise is that I'll love you until the day I die."

"If that's your Satedan version of a mating vow, what do I need to promise in return?"

"Nothing, unless you really want to."

"I promise that I'll love you with all my heart and body and soul, forever. I hope that will be enough."

"It already is."

Their arms went around each other and they kissed more deeply and freely than they had in weeks.

Still holding her very close, he said, "Do we _have_ to go back?"

"Yes, we do."

"When we get back to Atlantis, the way we are now can't exist there. Not as long as the Wraith are a threat."

"We exist, no matter where we are or what's threatening us. Nothing and no one will ever change that." Whispering in his ear, she said, "I've missed you so much."

Ronon moved back a little so he could look into her eyes. "I don't think my sprained ankle will be a problem if we have sex." His serious expression dissolved into a hearty laugh.

After dousing the campfire, Elizabeth helped him to his feet. His arm across her shoulders, they went into the jumper.

* * *

Coming into the jumper cockpit from the back where she'd gotten dressed after their leisurely, pre-breakfast swim in the river, Elizabeth listened to Ronon's conversation with the Delavan leader as she dried her hair.

Despite the polite phrasing, Ronon's voice was hard-edged with impatience. "Consul, I understand your military situation but you need to understand ours. We're totally in the open here. My resources for protecting Dr. Weir are limited. If you can't get a rescue ship here today, I intend to take her to the nearest town. What's your answer?"

"_I do understand, Dex. You should be able to reach Essene before sunset. As soon as the route is clear, I will have a shuttle dispatched. Again, please convey my apologies to Dr. Weir."_

"I will. Dex out." As the connection broke off, Ronon mumbled a very descriptive Satedan profanity.

"What was that all about?"

Facing her, his voice calmed as he explained, "It seems the Delavan government has a rebellion on its hands. One of their battalions is engaged in a major skirmish with the rebel forces north of here. Until that's over, they can't risk putting a shuttle in the air. Looks like our vacation is over."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. I'm going to get that fresh air and sunshine Sheppard suggested while we walk. How's your ankle?"

Ronon grinned. "You're always good medicine."

"I'll do breakfast while you pack up whatever we can use from the jumper. Were you able to contact Atlantis yet?"

"No. Something's still jamming the frequency but I can't tell if it's on their end or ours."

From long practice, Elizabeth's 'worried about home' look surfaced. "I hope everything's okay there."

In his typical dry humor, Ronon said, "With McKay away and Sheppard in charge, I wouldn't worry." He caught the wet towel Elizabeth threw at him before it reached his face.

* * *

John reversed the route he'd been pacing in Elizabeth's office for the past half hour. Teyla watched for a few more seconds then stood in front of him so that he had no choice about stopping.

"Wearing a hole in the floor will accomplish nothing, John."

"No. But it makes me feel better."

From the control room, the technician called, "Colonel, message coming in from Delavan."

Sheppard ran into the control room and stood in front of the monitor, Teyla beside him.

"_Colonel Sheppard, I am Consul Sarius. I want to apologize for the delay in contacting you. We are having some unusually heavy electrical storms this summer and it is wrecking havoc with our communication systems, both on the surface and off world."_

"Mother nature does those things sometimes. Where are Dr. Weir and Ronon Dex?"

"_There was some mechanical difficulty with their craft and they were forced to land just south of here. They were unhurt but are stranded for the moment. Before we could send a rescue craft, the storm system hit. As soon as the weather clears, we will retrieve them, I assure you."_

"Thanks for letting us know. Have Dr. Weir call home as soon as she can."

"_I will."_

The screen went blank. Sheppard looked at Teyla. "They're safe," he said with a relieved sigh.

Watching John's face change from relief back to worry, Teyla asked, "How long do you wish to wait before we retrieve Elizabeth and Ronon?"

"Twenty-eight hours, max."

* * *

The stone road marker gave the place name as Essene. To Elizabeth's practiced eye, it looked like a Life Magazine photo layout of a World War Two-era town. Mixed with the steady stream of people moving along the sidewalks, there was a generous scattering of motorized vehicles. The level of development also extended to the good-sized commercial and industrial buildings. The occasional horse and rider competing for space in the roads with oxen-driven farm carts was a little disconcerting however.

Stopping in the middle of the thoroughfare, Elizabeth shaded her eyes against the slant of the late afternoon sun. She was sure there were residential areas somewhere further in but the area she and Ronon were walking through now was filled with work-day busyness.

She scanned up and down the wide street. "The Pegasus Galaxy is certainly a strange mixture of worlds, despite the Wraith. This reminds me of Hoff, a modestly sophisticated world we encountered in our first year here. And yet, the central government has even more advanced technology with their shuttles, like the Olesians."

"We humans are very stubborn," Ronon said, looking around for a particular business.

"And very creative."

Taking her arm, he led her across the street. "My idea of creative right now is a hot bath, a change of clothes and a real meal. And we can find that right here." He opened the door of a building with a sign that read 'Coral River Hotel'.

At the front desk, a neatly dressed man asked, "May I help you, sir?"

"We'd like a room with a bath."

"For one night?"

"Hopefully."

The man pushed the registry book toward Ronon as he handed him a key. Ronon took the key but ignored the book. Elizabeth moved to the counter as he started walking away. Picking up the writing instrument lying on the open book, she scribbled on the next blank line.

"Do you have a dining room?" Elizabeth asked sweetly.

"One of the best outside the capital. I would be happy to make a reservation for you and your husband for this evening," he smiled pleasantly.

"Please do and thank you."

As they walked up the steps leading to the second floor, Ronon whispered, "Husband?"

With a teasing laugh, she answered, "We're on vacation, remember?"

* * *

The dining room of the Coral River Hotel was three quarters full while the bar along the periphery was crowded two-deep. The steady drone of conversations made for a very noticeable noise level.

Bract Adair watched the two Atlanteans from a spot at the end of the long bar. Essene had become the new rebel headquarters only recently. Everyone in the room knew who he was, so he was allowed his private space. Even before he became Syl's second-in-command, people tended to be intimated by his presence. The wide bands of stark white that streaked his long, black hair made them take notice. What usually caused them to back away was the jagged scar that bisected the left side of his face from ear to chin. It told everyone he had lived a harsh, violent life since his world had fallen to the Wraith. It also told all who crossed his path that he had survived despite it.

"He's a Satedan, like you," the evening shift bartender said.

The Essene man had pointed the man and woman out to him, but Bract had recognized them immediately. Despite the Delavan clothing they were wearing, they stood out in the native crowd. "Not like me," he said coldly. "The tattoo marks him as one of Kell's elite."

"Too bad most of them were wiped out when the Wraith destroyed Sateda eight years ago."

Bract frowned. "Yes, too bad." The bartender looked at him then moved away to serve another customer. He knew the man was curious, but he didn't dare ask. Taking another sip of his drink, his eyes went back to the booth in the far corner of the dining room where the smiling Atlantean woman and her Satedan companion sat.

* * *

"The desk clerk was right about the food here," Elizabeth said exuberantly.

"It pays to live near a river. Good seafood."

Now that they had finished their meal, Elizabeth noticed how Ronon's eyes had gone back to systematically scanning the room. She had become used to his natural tendency to always be on guard around strangers. Having been alerted to the rebel faction, his protective instincts had increased markedly. To anyone else, he would appear to be completely at ease, but in the year since he had arrived in Atlantis, she had learned to interpret his looks as well as she now understood his different silences.

Elizabeth covered his clasped hands where they rested on the table with one of her own. Ronon's face immediately changed from his soldier look to the smile he used only for her. The movement of his eyes became something very personal and very searching as it glided down from her face to the lowest part of her body he could see above the table. The extra glint of admiration and desire that had started when he'd first seen her in the vibrant green ankle-length dress in their room was even stronger now. She'd never thought of herself as anything but average looking. His eyes always reflected back so much more.

Taking her hand in one of his, Ronon rested it on his thigh and leaned back against the heavily padded booth, pulling her close against him. His other arm went around her. Despite the public place, the closeness seemed a natural thing to do.

The diners had begun to thin out, leaving mainly the bar crowd. Three formally-dressed musicians walked across the room from the bar area to a small stage near Ronon and Elizabeth's table. The long-haired woman seated herself at what Elizabeth would describe as an old-fashioned spinet. The shorter of the two men began tuning a stringed-instrument very much like a medieval mandolin. The other man simply stood quietly while his fellow musicians began playing. The opening piece was lively and pleasant, receiving strong applause from the crowd when it ended.

The first haunting notes from the delicate mouth instrument the tall man now played brought total silence to the room. The other two instruments slowly joined with the Celtic tin-whistle sound, weaving a breathless depth and poignancy into the piece. The woman at the spinet began singing in what Elizabeth recognized as the Satedan language.

To Elizabeth's surprise, she heard Ronon humming softly against her ear. "You know this music?"

"It's a very old Satedan love song my mother used to sing to my father."

"Translate for me?"

"It's very formal. I don't think I can do it justice."

"Try. For me?"

Taking a long, deep breath, Ronon paraphrased, "Each day two lovers thank the Ancestors for bringing them together and for blessing their lives with joy, passion and laughter. They also ask a special blessing, that when their time in this life is done, they be allowed to enter eternity together." Ronon smiled self-consciously. "My father was like me, not good with words. But he loved my mother so much, he shared the music with her in his own way."

Tears in her eyes, Elizabeth asked, "Share the music with me, in your own way?"

* * *

As Ronon and Elizabeth exited the dining room, Bract watched them sadly. "Forgive me for what is about to happen, Ronon Dex."

* * *

Ronon's eyes flew open at the pressure of the cold metal against his temple. He reached for his gun on the bedside table.

"Don't!" a harsh, guttural voice barked.

He felt Elizabeth startle awake beside him. As he slowly sat up, he eased his body over so that she was shielded from the half dozen armed men who surrounded the bed. "What do you want?" he said in a tight, angry voice.

The man who had spoken gave a grating laugh as he confiscated Ronon's gun. "That's for Syl to explain. Get dressed and make it quick."

Retrieving his clothes from the floor where Elizabeth had thrown them the night before, he kept his eyes on her as she gathered her own clothes. He could see her hands trembling with each movement, not from fear but from embarrassment. The leering gazes of the six men were not something that she had ever had to deal with in her life. He didn't dare make a move to shield her nakedness from them. He had to keep his temper to protect her. She kept her eyes riveted to the floor. Only when she was fully dressed did she look over at him. The look that passed between them was fleeting but filled with understanding and trust.

His hands were tightly bound behind his back while Elizabeth's wrists were tied in front of her. By the time they were led downstairs and loaded onto an open motorized transport vehicle, Ronon had memorized the faces of all six men. When the time was right, he would make sure they paid for humiliating her. For now, his rage had peaked and gone into the cold, deadly hatred that had kept him alive for seven years against the Wraith.

As the truck moved along the early morning streets, small groups of people gathered to watch. The inhabitants of the town were obviously used to the rebel presence and had no objection to it. The crowds thinned and finally disappeared by the time they arrived at a large warehouse deep in the industrial sector.

They were pushed through the door and led around a fleet of motorized vehicles. Ronon took note of the three-high crates of ammunition and racks of assorted weapons. One ordinance item looked like the Earth military-issue rocket launchers in Atlantis' armories. For a rebel army, they were well-provisioned.

The men who had captured them arranged themselves in a semi-circle, their weapons carefully aimed at their backs. Two men, one considerably older than the other with a noticeable limp, came down a narrow metal staircase from an open loft area. They stopped in front of Ronon and Elizabeth. The older man's eyes carefully scrutinized each of them.

Ronon's strong, direct voice broke the silence, "What do you people want with us?"

The older man kept his eyes on Elizabeth as he answered Ronon's question, "You are hostages. And depending on how valuable those so called Delavan leaders consider you, you may live to see another day."

Elizabeth stepped forward and faced the tall white-haired man. "What are your demands?"

The man gave a harsh laugh. "You are?"

"Dr. Elizabeth Weir, leader of the Earth expedition that now occupies the city of Atlantis. You must be Syl, the leader of this rebel faction."

Another harsh laugh escaped the man's throat. "To start, I intend to ransom you for the release of all political prisoners."

Elizabeth laughed as harshly as Syl had. "We are far more valuable than that. I would be happy to act as negotiator for your side. Perhaps a deal can be arranged to end this conflict."

The amused tolerance disappeared from Syl's face. "Your value has yet to be established. As for an end to this war, after twenty-two years of fighting and all the lives that have been lost, only the government's unconditional surrender would be acceptable terms." With one last glare, he turned and walked away.

The younger man nodded to the six who dragged Elizabeth and Ronon toward the back of the warehouse to an empty office. Inside the room, Syl's stripe-haired second-in-command waved the others out. Very gently, he cut the rope that bound Elizabeth's hands.

Very softly, she said, "Thank you."

Moving behind Ronon, the man quickly cut his bindings then closed the office door and locked it. Angrily staring at the solid door, Ronon rubbed his wrists as the feeling began returning to his hands.

He briefly mused over the man's silent considerate behavior then turned to Elizabeth who was standing totally still in the center of the small empty room. His pride at the strong stand she had taken against the rebel leader was dampened by the return of the traumatized expression she had shown in their room. He moved beside her and softly called her name. Her response was to wrap her arms around her body in a tight protective gesture.

"Elizabeth," he said again and tenderly moved the stray wave of hair that always seemed to fall across her right eye.

When she looked up at him, her eyes were filled with a painful shame. As he wrapped his arms around her, her body began trembling uncontrollably. Holding her tightly, so his body warmth would sooth her ice cold skin, he whispered lovingly in her ear, "They can't hurt you, Elizabeth. I won't let them."

Her knees suddenly buckled. He carefully guided her to the floor where he held her against him. With gentle, affectionate whispers, he found the comforting words he knew she needed to hear.

* * *

Bract went to the six men who were talking and laughing near the warehouse entrance. He hid the anger that had risen as he stoically had to watch their rough handling of Weir and Dex. He could hear their crude comments about the woman. At his approach, they stopped talking.

He noticed the unusual weapon jammed into the belt of the one who acted as leader of the group. With a quick, rough pull, he took it. Hefting the unfamiliar piece in his hand, he smiled and put it into his empty left holster.

"I'm ordering food and water for them from the hotel." Looking from one man to the next, he added, "If any harm comes to the woman, you will answer to me."

One by one the men nodded in understanding. Turning his back to them, Bract walked out of the warehouse.

* * *

Across hundreds of miles, the two enemies glared at each other from their respective video monitors.

From the communications console in the spacious loft, Syl said smugly, _"Are you really so desperate that you need an alliance with these intruders from another galaxy?"_

"The political dispute between you and my predecessors is no longer valid, Syl. This war is leaving our world weak and vulnerable. If you persist in this, we will fall to the Wraith as our neighbors the Satedans did."

"_Then you cannot afford to sacrifice these two Atlanteans,"_ Syl taunted.

Sarius clenched his fists out of view from his long-time adversary. "The Wraith have awakened all across Pegasus and are systematically decimating entire solar systems. When they arrive, I want our people to have some kind of chance to survive. Do you?"

"_I use whatever means I deem necessary to protect this world, as do you. Make your choice, Sarius. You have until sundown," _and the screen went black.

Sarius slammed his fist down on the desk then turned to General Vodd, who had been waiting patiently beside him. "Deploy the troops."

* * *

No one in Atlantis had ever seen Lt. Colonel John Sheppard in such a rage. None of their enemies, Wraith or Genii, had generated the hatred that was consuming him now that he knew two of the people he cared about most were being used as pawns in a planetary political struggle.

His conversation with Consul Sarius had been filled with apologies, excuses and promises of all possible assistance from the Delavan military in recovering Elizabeth and Ronon from the hands of the rebels. His admission that they had been used as bait was glossed over with assurances that their agent within the rebel group had been strongly instructed to protect them. After getting the coordinates of the warehouse where they were being held, John had cut the sub space link before the consul could continue his lame rhetoric.

Facing the twenty Marines clustered in the jumper bay, with Teyla and Lorne on either side of him, John gave his orders, simply and coldly, "The Delavan Army will have already started their attack on the rebel headquarters by the time we get there. Our two jumpers will be right in the thick of it from the first. We have only one objective, to secure the warehouse where Dr. Weir and Ronon Dex are being held." The 'no quarter' tone of voice increased with his next words, "Whoever gets in our way, government troops or rebel forces, are fair targets. We're bringing our people home, at all costs."

Teyla followed him into the first jumper while Lorne took the second, the Marines dividing themselves between the two ships. In turn, each ship was lowered to the gate room and accelerated through the wormhole.

* * *

Now that she had regained control over her emotions, Elizabeth was able to view their predicament with her usual cool pragmatism. Whatever their captors might have in mind, she felt sure that John Sheppard and a good-sized force from Atlantis would be on the scene soon. Smiling to herself, she admitted that her city's military commander sometimes had as little patience in crisis situations as did her new mate.

She calmly watched her mate's pacing. This was one of Ronon's silences that she knew enough not to interrupt. She had memorized the recurring pattern of his movements over the last hour. He slowly walked the perimeter of the four walls, his head down. As the hour progressed, he would occasionally stop. His head would come up and his eyes would close. His body was so still, she could barely see him breathe.

Instead of resuming his pacing this time, Ronon knelt down beside her. Before she could say anything, a heavy explosion shook the building. She reached for his hands, her eyes widening.

"Long-range artillery," he said simply. "It's been getting closer."

"The Delavan military?"

Ronon nodded. "It's what I'd do."

"I guess we're not so valuable after all," Elizabeth laughed mirthlessly.

His strong hands surrounded hers reassuringly. "First opportunity, I'll get us out of here."

Two successive fresh explosions ended their conversation. Then the lock clicked and the door swung wide open as Syl and Bract entered.

Ronon helped Elizabeth stand and moved her behind him so that he was facing the two men. The noise and rush of activity in the warehouse told him the rebels were pulling out of the town. His warrior's instinct was to fight, sure that he could easily take both men.

"Your people have picked the wrong side," Syl said angrily.

A spark of hope surged through Ronon at the implication of the rebel leader's words. "If our people are here, it's to rescue us, not choose sides."

Syl's face showed only one strong emotion. His eyes still on them, he said, "Kill them, Bract."

Ronon felt Elizabeth's firm touch on his back. Glancing at his weapon in the stripe-haired rebel's holster, he knew he would very probably die today. Turning away from the two men, he hoped that his body would somehow protect her. Lovingly, he scanned her face. Her eyes returned his look and a deep calm passed through him.

Her soft voice found the words he couldn't and she smiled, "See you in eternity, my love."

As Bract took the heavy weapon from his left holster, the man and woman held each other in a close embrace. Two bright circles of red energy dispersed across his targets. He watched Dex's large body fall, taking the woman's smaller body with his. The lovers' embrace held as they crumpled to the floor.

He turned to Syl. "You should leave now, before they seal off the entire town. I'll meet you at the new camp."

Syl gave one last disgusted look at the bodies then hurried out the door. From the doorway, Bract watched the vehicle carrying the rebel leader speed out of the warehouse. Three more vehicles loaded with men and weapons followed.

He put Dex's weapon back in the holster. Hurrying out of the building, he started to run in the opposite direction than the one Syl's truck had taken.

* * *

As the jumpers approached the town from above, John could see a dozen huge transports on the ground disgorging government troops and armored vehicles. Four aerial gunships were strafing the eastern border of the town, targeting the unmarked vehicles and groups of men on foot, as they tried to escape.

John banked the jumper to the north where the warehouse was located. He saw that they were on the same path as one of the gunships. Before he could alert Major Lorne in the other jumper, his radio crackled alive.

"_Colonel Sheppard, this is Pilot Dorn of the Delavan Air Corp. If you will follow my ship, we will escort you safely to the objective."_

"Lorne, did you hear that?"

"_Copy, sir."_

"We're on your tail, Dorn."

The Delavan ship veered left and the jumpers followed. As the warehouse came into view, a gunship was just finishing a strafing run along the building. It broke off on orders from their escort but not before a section of the wall beside the entrance collapsed.

The jumpers set down as close to the building as they could. Sheppard, Teyla, Lorne and the Marines disembarked and began running toward the warehouse. Suddenly a massive explosion from inside the building rocked the street, sending them ducking for cover. The entire front wall blew out, pouring flames and smoke into their path.

From his hiding place across the street, Bract was knocked to the ground. When he saw the damage, he quickly got to his feet. Raising his arms above his head in surrender, he hurried toward the dark-haired man in the lead. "Your people are at the back of the building," he said as twenty-three assorted weapons were aimed at him.

John's anger was quick as he barked an order to one of the Marines, "Hold this guy. Teyla, you're with me," and he ran into the rubble of the warehouse.

Despite the smoke and intense heat, John and Teyla found their way to the back, climbing over chunks of concrete, burning crates and twisted metal. The flimsy walls that had once separated the small office had collapsed. Instinctively, they both knew that under the rubble they would find their friends.

Together they lifted one large piece of debris. Underneath, they saw Ronon's body, his shirt completely covered in growing red stains. Partially hidden underneath him, was Elizabeth's body.

"No," John whispered pleadingly.

Teyla knelt and felt for Elizabeth's pulse on her neck. With a relieved breath she said, "She is alive."

John knelt beside Ronon. When he felt a definite pulse in the big man's neck, he added, "So's he." Looking up at the major who had just arrived, he said, "Contact Atlantis. Tell them to have a medical team ready to meet us. Let's get our people the hell out of here."

* * *

John and Teyla jumped up from the chairs in the lounge area just outside the infirmary as Carson Beckett approached.

"How are they, doc?" John asked anxiously.

"Very lucky. Elizabeth suffered only a mild wrist fracture, probably from the fall after she was stunned."

"Stunned?" Teyla said in surprise.

"Aye. Both were just stunned, not shot with any weapon that could harm."

Together John and Teyla reached for each other's hand.

"Ronon?" John asked.

"He received the worst of the ordeal. He's goin' ta have some nice new scars from burns and shrapnel wounds."

"May we see them?" Teyla asked.

"They're both asleep but you can take a peek if it'll make ya feel better."

With a satisfied smile, Carson watched the couple go into the ward. This was one of those times when being the CMO of Atlantis was pure joy.

* * *

John stood at the balcony railing outside his room, taking in the peace of the night, the lapping waves, the tangy sea breeze, the twinkle of the city's lights and the endless glimmer of the stars above.

Teyla always knew when he needed more than their usual physical intimacy, ever since their very first time as lovers after Charin's death. They had come together in a special way that night, becoming to each other the family they both had lost and longed for again.

He knew he would never return to Earth for more than brief visits. His dream of marriage, children and a home were here in the Pegasus Galaxy with her. Together they were creating a new future. A big part of that future life, after the Wraith, included their closest friends Elizabeth and Ronon.

Tonight, the lovemaking had been a deep mutual need, to celebrate the preservation of their Atlantis family. Death had come way too close to two people they both cared about deeply.

He shivered then felt Teyla's warm skin against his bare back. Her arms went around his waist as she said, "Elizabeth and Ronon took good care of each other."

John could tell what she had said was as much to reassure herself as to comfort him. "If Ronon hadn't taken care of Elizabeth, I'd have kicked his ass. That's his job."

In her gentlest voice, she said, "Sometimes you hear the words but miss the meaning, my love."

He caressed her arms and they tightened around him.

"Do you remember how we found them?"

"I'd rather not," he said pushing the image to a closed corner of his mind. Her heavy silence made him curious. "Yes, I do. Why?"

"Ronon and Elizabeth were prepared to die together, in each other's arms. If we are ever in a similar situation, I ask that you not leave me alone in this life."

Stunned, John turned around and faced her. There were glistening tears along her lashes. "I can't promise that, Teyla. Someday, when the Wraith are defeated and we have children, one of us would need to survive, for them."

"That is different. My father went on with his life because of me after my mother was taken. I am speaking of now, John, just you and I."

He saw the tears swell and slowly slide down her cheeks. Remembering the way she had clung to him their first night together in her grief and in her total need for him, he wiped them away with his fingers, as he'd done then. Kissing her, tenderly and sweetly, he whispered against her tawny skin, "Just you and me, I promise."

A new need brought hands and mouths and bodies together again as the night waned.

* * *

Carson Beckett met John and Teyla just inside the doorway of the infirmary. They could see the two beds where Elizabeth and Ronon had been sleeping the night before.

"How are your two patients this morning, doctor?" Teyla asked.

"Elizabeth is doing so well, I'll be releasing her later today."

"May I go to her?"

"I'm sure she'll appreciate the company."

When Teyla was far enough away, John asked, "How's our big guy? I don't see him."

In a deeply worried voice, Carson explained, "Ronon walked out of here right after I came on duty."

"I guess he's okay then?" When Beckett didn't answer, he said, "What happened?"

"Sometime during the night, Ronon woke up and pulled out the IV line. This morning, I found him sitting at Elizabeth's bedside holding her hand. He badgered me about her condition. When I assured him she would be fine, he left in a big hurry. I haven't seen him this angry and sullen since he first came here."

John watched Teyla who was in deep conversation with an anxious-looking Elizabeth. He knew the two women would easily communicate with each other about what had happened on Delavan. His too-silent teammate was a very different matter. He knew where he'd find Ronon and hoped the trust and friendship they'd gained over the past year would count for something.

* * *

After he'd been reassured by Dr. Beckett that Elizabeth would recover fully, Ronon had gone to the mess hall for his first decent hot meal since that evening in the hotel dining room. His hunger quenched, he went back to his room intending to sleep. The infirmary chair hadn't been very accommodating to his large body. Ignoring the pain in his back and limbs, he'd bathed and crawled into bed exhausted. An hour later, he was still wide awake.

He dressed quickly and began a level by level walkabout of the city. All the while he moved, he relived each moment of his time with Elizabeth while they were off world.

Each event, each word, each sensation they experienced together was imprinted in his mind.

They had enjoyed two precious days of freedom and closeness, with no need to censor their feelings for each other, in private or in public. For the first time since they had become lovers, Ronon truly believed there was a mated bond between him and Elizabeth, one that would last into the eternity the song described.

During a conversation he had had with Sheppard not too long ago about their hopes for the future after the Wraith were defeated, the word destiny had come up. Both men wanted the same thing – a home and family. Sheppard's need was to make up for what he'd lost early in life. He truly believed he'd been brought to the Pegasus Galaxy and Atlantis to find Teyla.

For him, the destiny of Atlantis had had multiple effects on his life. His salvation from the Wraith was immediate. The friendship, camaraderie and purpose the city's new inhabitants had generously offered him had kept him there at first. Meeting Elizabeth was an unexpected gift. He saw in her the means to recreate what he'd had growing up. His father had mated very late in life. All those years alone had hardened him, until Ronon's mother had chosen to create a life with him. The love his parents had shared was very special. Finding someone to make a life with was a hope he'd clung to tenaciously during his seven year ordeal, a dream of freedom and a home of his own.

His anger and recklessness in his early days with the team masked the despair he had been very close to over what he had become because of the Wraith. He had been drawn to Elizabeth Weir for deeply personal reasons he had kept to himself in those early months. What made him decide to stay ultimately came from loving and being loved by a strong, powerful woman with a boundless, open heart. Beyond his obvious surface worth as a warrior, he had regained his true humanity through and with her.

Occasionally, he still woke up suddenly in the middle of the night. The brief moment of apprehension that almost panicked him each time was immediately dispelled as soon as he heard the sound of her soft, steady breathing beside him, assuring him that he was no longer alone.

Brutally pushing aside the melancholic reminiscences, the anger reared up hotly. He and Elizabeth might have died except for some freakish circumstances he didn't understand. If they were part of that destiny Sheppard had talked about, it had taken a dangerous turn. The throbbing pain in his back reminded him what his true worth would always be. He had been a fool to think his destiny could change.

As suddenly as it had flared, the anger began to ebb, leaving him drained and hurting. All he could feel was what Elizabeth had given him, her smile, her empathy, the deepest moments of passion he had ever known and a place of rest and safety in her arms. The nightmares had become very rare, even after his return from the hive ship this last time, and the phantom pain from his old scares faded with her touches. The roughness of his warrior hands was always welcomed joyfully by her tender body. Along with his renewed humanity, she had given him a real hope for the future.

The love and anger continued to battle viciously inside him. Then the latter triumphed as he remembered waking up in the infirmary to see Elizabeth's pale unconscious form on the gurney a few feet away from his in the treatment room. What had been done to them just yesterday had shattered his belief in himself as a fighter, and as protector to that most precious life in his care. That he hadn't been able to save her from the violating eyes of the rebel gunmen was the ultimate proof of his failure.

As much as it would hurt, he had to leave before he destroyed her life. There were too many enemies among her own people and too many secrets to keep. He knew what he would become, adrift and alone again. He would survive, but at a bitter cost.

* * *

As expected, John found Ronon leaning on the railing of the farthest western tower balcony. Teyla had told him about the special place their two friends had in the city. He felt like he was intruding on his friend's private space but the consequences that could result from this unresolved aftermath would be devastating for all of them.

"Ronon?" John said from behind him.

Without turning, Ronon answered, "Sheppard."

John moved closer to the railing but left a comfortable zone between them. "Teyla's a lot better at this than I am, but I thought, if there was something you'd like to talk about…"

Still with his back to his team leader, Ronon said, "I appreciate all you've done for me, Sheppard, but I'll be leaving today. I've been here too long."

Not sure whether he should be angry or sympathetic, John's words were a mixture of both emotions. "I know it's none of my business, but I'll say it anyway – you and Elizabeth belong together."

Ronon faced Sheppard out of respect for the man's loyal friendship. "On Sateda, common soldiers and the chosen leaders didn't mix."

"Yeah, well. Earth used to have a lot of those rules too. In fact, Teyla and I would have been outcasts, or worse."

"Some rules never change."

Answering Ronon's steady glare, John said, "The rules can change if you want them to, Ronon. This isn't Earth, or Sateda."

His tall friend gave a deeply pained frown and a negative movement of his head. "I was careless and let my guard down. Because of me, Elizabeth almost died."

This time the anger came out full blown, and Sheppard said, "What makes you think you're entitled to be the perfect hero and make the rest of us look bad! Elizabeth is alive _because_ she was with you and not anyone else."

"Explain!" was Ronon's equally angry response.

"The guy who shot you, his name is Bract Adair. His older brother Tane commanded one of the divisions Kell sent to their deaths that day on Sateda."

"Tane? I remember him. He was a fine officer."

"Bract saved you and Elizabeth as payment for your avenging his brother's death. He used your gun to fool the rebel leader into believing he'd killed both of you."

"That's why he never spoke," Ronon said in a low voice. "I would have recognized the accent."

"_You_ saved Elizabeth too, buddy. Beckett said if you hadn't shielded her with your body, the fireworks from all that exploding ammo would have seriously injured or even killed her."

Ronon's face went from thoughtful to resigned. "I want to see him before I go."

"You're still leaving?" John asked, stunned that his friend hadn't really heard his words.

"It's better this way."

"Elizabeth won't accept that."

"She'll understand."

"No, I don't!" Elizabeth Weir said firmly from the doorway where Teyla was gently supporting her.

John moved away from the railing as Elizabeth came out and stood next to Ronon. Her right arm was in a sling. She looked tired and frail but her voice was as strong as it always was in dire situations. He and Teyla exchanged glances then turned and exited the balcony.

Elizabeth wanted desperately to just break down and cry. One of the strongest elements in her relationship with Ronon was that she didn't have to be afraid to cry with him, as she was with all the other men she had to deal with in her life, here and back on Earth. But this time, she needed to use her anger to get through the barrier she sensed Ronon had constructed between them.

"Did you think my vow to you was just words, Ronon Dex?"

"No. And neither was my vow to you. It was a _mistake_, for _both_ of us."

There were numerous arguments she could use against his words but they would deteriorate into a pointless fight. Instead she chose the direct approach she had learned so well from him.

"Give me a half hour to pack some clothes and write a resignation. Then we'll both leave."

His response was firm, direct, and purposely annoyed. "Where I'll be going won't be the kind of life you're used to, Elizabeth."

Struggling to keep her volatile feelings from overwhelming her words, Elizabeth asked, "Will we be together?"

Ronon's response was a long time in coming as their eyes silently spoke to each other. In the growing swell of emotions that hung between them, his slow nod acknowledged both gratitude and surrender as he answered in a soft voice, "Yes."

She moved close to him. Caressing his cheek with her left hand, she said, "No more hiding, my love. We take chances _together_ from here on. Understood?"

"Understood," he said solemnly. His arms encircled her waist and carefully lifted her off her feet. Very gently he touched his lips to hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her eager mouth meshed and blended with his. The kiss was long and sweet, full of forgiveness and understanding on both sides. Being careful of her sling-wrapped arm, he very slowly let her body slide down against his until her feet touched the floor.

Breathlessly laughing with relief and joy, Elizabeth said, "Teyla and John are having a special dinner tonight to celebrate an Athosian holiday. They'd like us to join them. Then we can take a stroll around the city. Once people see us together all the time, they'll accept it as if it was always that way."

Ronon's serious expression softened into a very faint smile and he asked, "Then?"

Elizabeth's face reddened as it hadn't since their early days as lovers. "Your room or mine?"

Laughing, he hugged her again. "Mine – this time."


End file.
